Necks
by idolsgirl
Summary: Angelus goes further than killing Jenny Calendar. (Sn. 2) Ch. 6 up. It's time for the big showdown. Or is it?
1. Tapes

Summary: OK, so, this is one of those 'what if?' deals. What if Angelus hadn't stopped at Jenny Calendar's murder, but gone on to hurt those around the Slayer as much as he could?

Spoilers: Up to 'Passion'.

Disclaimer: I own none of the 'Buffy' characters. I only own the plot.

A/N: This is a dark fic, might be disturbing (hey, it's rated R for a reason). There will be quite a lot of violence (there is some here too). Please review, feedback is greatly appreciated.

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Buffy had come to know the sound of a neck breaking as well as she had known her mother's voice. She could tell from the pitch, the volume, the timbre of the noise made by those bones fracturing, what kind of person they belonged to. Was it a male or a female, a thin or a fat person? Was it a young or an old one? She always knew.

Her un-asked for education on the matter began when he started sending tapes to her home of the sound of her friends' dying. He hadn't quite had the time to do that for Jenny Calendar. Hers was more of an impromptu demise. He hadn't brought the tape recorder with him that day. In truth, he hadn't had that great idea yet, but he would soon, and then he would never leave the mansion for a kill again without that tape recorder. 

Everybody was in pain after Jenny's death, and Angelus loved it. He was beside himself with glee, in fact. His Buffy and the teacher were never that close; as a matter of fact, Buffy had hated her. Yet now, she was suffering. If _her_ death had this effect on her, Angelus couldn't wait to see what she'd do when Willow died.

She didn't do much, really. She didn't even cry, at least not when anyone could have seen her. It happened one week after Jenny. The Scoobies had said goodbye after school that day, just like any other day. However, they were being extra-careful, lately, phoning each other often to check. To see if everyone was still alive. When everyone got home, they called everyone else to discover, with relief, that they were all fine. Giles and Buffy had stayed back a while to train in the Library. Then, the Slayer and her Watcher both went home where Angel could never get in.

Willow too had phoned. But she wouldn't be fine for much longer. She'd stepped out for a few minutes, to water the plants in the back garden. Her mother wasn't going to be back for a few days, so she was in charge of all the 'household-y' things. She never had the time to pull her cross out. He was just too quick for her.

Buffy found the tape on her doorstep when she finally got home after the long training-session.

'Mum? Is this for you?' she yelled somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

'What honey?'

'There's a package on the doorstep. You didn't see it?'

'Maybe it's some secret admirer of yours,' said Joyce, smiling. 'It wasn't there when I came in.'

'Okay. I'll tell you if it's for you. Call me when dinner's ready.'

She was intrigued when she saw the tape. Was it a love declaration, maybe? She smiled inwardly. Then it hit her that Angel was the only guy, apart from Xander, she had really got to know in her time in Sunnydale, so if it was indeed a guy, it would be him. And right now, it wasn't even _him_. So she dreaded hearing what he would have to say. But she knew she had to, for the sake of Slayer duty. So, alone, up in her room, she pressed play.

_'Hello, lover.__ It's me. Guess who I have here?'_

_'Buffy!'_

The Slayer froze.

'_Yep, that's right, Buff. It's your little friend. I'm going to kill her now. Want to hear?'_

_'Buffy, if you can hear me, I love you all! Please, don't blame yourself. This is *not* your fault. I love you-'_

Then came that sickening crack. It was sharp, almost cackling with some sort of energy. Magic, perhaps? That was the sound Willow's neck made.

Buffy heard her friend's body slumping to the floor. Then, his voice, mocking her.

_'It's not your fault, Buffy.'_

TBC…


	2. Demon Goo

A/N: The second chapter follows on directly from the first. Again, violence warning (not for this chapter, really, but it's rather depressing). 

To Sabia: Don't worry! ;-) Oh, and could you tell me what a reprieve is?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this plot.

Please review! It takes so little time! Please please please! Oh, and I realise I'm not so good at diary-writing, so don't be too harsh! :-D

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Her hand was surprisingly steady as she reached for the phone.

It rang twice.

_'Hello?'_

'Giles,' she said, in an eerily quiet voice.

_'Buffy? Is that you? Buffy?'_

'Giles. We…there is a problem,'

Lame.

_'Buffy, is everything all right? Did Angel do something? Buffy?'_

'No. Yes. Willow…'

Somehow, forming words was becoming near-impossible. Giles however, talked on, unaware of the tragedy he was about to face, yet with worry etched into his every syllable.

_'__Willow__? Buffy, hang on, I'm coming. Do not leave the house, I'll be right there,'_

*******

_[Extract from the Watchers' Diaries – Rupert Giles_

_Slayer: Buffy Anne Summers]_

_March 31st,1998___

_Angelus has succeeded in his attempt to indirectly bring my charge to her knees by killing her best friend, __Willow__ Rosenberg.__ After Jennifer Calendar's murder last week, we did not expect him to act again so soon, and thought we had taken the necessary precautions to ensure our safety. Needless to say, Buffy is in a state of shock, as are her other friends. I have exempted her from patrolling, taking up the duty myself, at least until she recovers. However, I doubt she will any time soon. _

_Angelus has employed a particularly brutal method of emotional torture on Buffy. He has recorded his murder of Miss Rosenberg on tape (sound only) and left the recording on Buffy's doorstep. I regret not being by her side as she played the tape, as I am afraid that particular experience has left too deep a mark now to ever be entirely healed, and my presence might have helped cope. _

_In fact, behind her relatively tranquil appearance, I believe Buffy is hiding inexpressible grief and anger, which, however, she is failing to show. All I can do is be close to her, help her to get through this in the hope that she'll soon let herself openly grieve and be ready to face Angelus once more._

_For now, I have no reason to believe that Angelus, Drusilla and Spike might be planning anything too dangerous, though, so I will not press Buffy to direct action against them. _

_[End of extract]_

*******

Willow's funeral was the day after. Authorities found no fingerprints or evidence of any other kind to point to a potential suspect, and the autopsy was quite simple. Neck fracture. There wasn't really anything special with this murder. As Xander put it, by Sunnydale standards it was actually quite normal, considering half of the dead bodies in town were found with some remnant of what the police believed to be 'unidentified phosphorescent organic matter' and what he had conveniently labelled as 'demon goo.' It was just one of Xander's countless and miserably failing attempts at lightening up the situation, but it ended up as inappropriate humour. Which was hardly surprising, since his heart wasn't in it. How could he make anyone smile if he himself had lost all reason to do so?

Again, Buffy didn't cry. Surprisingly, the only Scooby Gang member to do so was Cordelia. Oz was just his usual, impassive self and Xander just stared into space, wide-eyed, like a lost puppy. Giles had, perhaps, cried all his tears for Jenny, every day that week. So he was dry-eyed as he now stood, his hand on Oz's shoulder, attempting to console him. He had tried to hold Buffy during the ceremony, but he was under the impression that she was avoiding him. He didn't realise that she was avoiding everyone else too.

Shortly after the funeral, they got notice that Cordelia was leaving town with some excuse for her parents. She had phoned Xander to tell him that she'd come back when the situation had improved a little. Nobody really could blame her; she was just scared and doing what any smart person would do. She was just trying to be safe.

The now dreadfully thin numbers of the Gang met at the Library. What the purpose of this meeting would be was a mystery to all, but perhaps they'd find some comfort in the memories brought back by their favourite haunt. Yet while the teens were all lost in their thoughts, Rupert Giles' worry increased with his sorrow. He couldn't help notice how distant Oz and Xander had become towards Buffy after learning about Willow's death. Xander especially had barely talked to her. Giles assumed it was just some subconscious mechanism; the two boys were obviously blaming Buffy for Willow's death, because she hadn't killed Angelus when she had had the chance. He had thought the same for a very short while after Jenny's death. But he knew they had no right. She just hadn't been ready. No one should ever have to be ready for something like that.

Giles decided he would talk to Buffy as soon as possible. Tell her that it wasn't her fault. Then it occurred to him how similar that sounded to Angelus' words on that tape and thought he'd somehow find another way to say it.

The strain on every single one of them was painfully obvious as they said goodbye when Giles dropped them home one by one. He purposefully left Buffy for last. He shouldn't let her go to bed without talking to her.

'Buffy. Please wait a second,'

She just looked a him. Giles' heart broke at how lost his Slayer looked. 

'Buffy. Listen to me. You have to rest now. Don't think about this. Don't blame yourself,' he said gently. 

'You'll get through this.' He forced himself to smile.

'Xander hates me,' she whispered tonelessly. 

'He doesn't hate you. Don't think that. He doesn't,' he said firmly.

Buffy just looked up at him, not failing to notice how dark circles had formed under his eyes and how pale he was. She knew he wasn't getting any sleep. She knew he thought and dreamt of Jenny all the time. How could he not, after only one week? Yet here he was, trying to make her feel better. For a second, she felt immense gratitude. Then, despair flooded back in. She gave him a weak smile and got off the car. A small tear escaped the Watcher's eye as he watched his little Slayer walking home, head held high, still holding back tears and trying to be strong. He was overwhelmed with pride and sorrow at the same time. And he saw the small package before she did.


	3. Razorbacks

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.

A/N: Thanks for reviewing! I'm sorry it took a while to update, but I have exams coming up. Thanks even if you just read and didn't review, but please do! Reviews are great! They help a lot. There'll be more character interaction in the next chapter, this is a 'slower' one.

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_'Hi lover.__ Long time no see. When are you gonna come looking for me? When I kill yet another one of your useless little friends?'_

_'Oh God no.__ Please no! Oh God, oh God, oh Go-'_

_'Will you stop that before I gag you? He's really not gonna help, you know. I know it's a bit of a letdown, but hey, that guy's got a lot of work to do, before stopping me from breaking your lovely little neck.'_

_'Oh God, please don't do this! I'll give you whatever you want, all the money I've got. My father, he's rich. Please don't. Angel, pl-'_

A frustrated growl.

A scream.

A slap.

Sobs.

_'Ah, you guys really have to learn not to call me that. Oh, and you really shouldn't scream. Wait. Actually, please do! I like girls who scream. Pity you never did that, Buff. Really makes things slightly more exciting. Oh well, I guess I should kill her now.'_

Another scream. A crack. Then, silence.

_'Oh, before I forget. It's really not your fault, Buffy.'_

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_[Extract from the Watchers' Diaries – Rupert Giles_

_Slayer: Buffy Anne Summers]_

_April 2nd, 1998___

_Reading__ about Angelus' history is certainly not enough to prepare anyone for the amount of cruelty this vampire is capable of. He has killed another friend of Buffy's yesterday, just one day after murdering Miss Rosenberg, and I do not know how much more Buffy can take of this. He is indeed succeeding in rendering my charge unable to fight him, although the reasons for his obsession for her are obscure. Before he lost his soul, Angelus and Buffy were on friendly terms, so there is no apparent logic behind his actions. If I hadn't known about his previous state and just saw him as a soulless monster, I would have never believed them to be the same creature._

_Fortunately, I was at Buffy's side this time when she found the tape. It is clear that Angelus intercepted Cordelia Chase at the Sunnydale bus station, and his method remains unvaried from Miss Rosenberg's murder. If possible, Buffy is even more upset than she was before. She still hasn't let herself cry, not even at Miss Chase's funeral. She hardly seems to be aware of anything but her friends' deaths and I still have to patrol in her place. This is of course an incredibly hard time for all of us, and I honestly hope we will in some way manage to stop Angelus. Of course, we are trying as hard as we can to keep risks at a minimum, but again, even having Buffy escort us wherever we go hardly seems a solution, as she seems to need more help than we do._

_[End of extract]_

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Giles closed the diary and sighed. There was just so much more that he couldn't write in there. There was his pain at having lost two people he loved and one person he was in love with. There was the devastating memory of seeing Xander cry like a child at Cordelia's funeral. There was a father's pain for a daughter every time he looked at Buffy and saw that her grief and guilt and hurt were beyond words. There was the knowledge that there was something much worse than logic behind Angelus' actions; there was love, and there was hate. And that he'd never stop killing until he had utterly destroyed the Slayer, and that she was in some way responsible for it all. And there was the absolute and chilling certainty that nothing would ever be the same again.

But whatever Angelus threw at the Scooby Gang, the rest of the world kept inexorably turning. Buffy, Xander and Oz all had to go to school, and Giles was still the Sunnydale High librarian. The Razorbacks still had to play and lessons had to go on. Death was everyday business in Sunnydale.

They had to take tests without Willow to copy from. They had to go to IT classes without Jenny to teach them. They had to talk to Jonathan without Cordelia to tease him. Even on the worst day of their lives.

TBC…


	4. Blame, Fury

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.

A/N: To those who reviewed, thanks for doing so! I hope you'll review and like this chapter as well. To all others, please review (thanks for reading anyway)! By the way, this is set just after the end of the last chapter.

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At least no one asked them to talk. Although many people hadn't been that close to Willow, everybody knew Cordelia and consequently, who she hung out with. People lost friends very often, but two in two days was a first. Teachers, with sad, pitying looks, asked them no questions and Harmony even told the 'Harmettes' not to bother them for a while. All in all, it had been a pretty quiet day.

What was there to say anyway?

The four 'survivors' now walked towards the gates, still not talking. Surprisingly, it was Oz who broke the silence, as they passed through them.

'See you tomorrow, guys,' he said, turning right. All the others went to the left so they had to split up. Well, Cordelia used to turn right too…

'What? No, wait, I should walk you guys home,' said Buffy, concern passing through the numbness.

'It's OK, Buffy, sunset's not until 6:37.'

'Wow, precise-much?' she remarked, amused.

'Well, you do tend to know these things when you're expecting to turn into a flesh-eating, mutant, pseudo-wolf creature three times a month as soon as the Sun goes down.'

Buffy laughed. But she stopped abruptly. 

'Still, I should walk you home.'

'Nah, you heard him, Buff, that's OK. You go home. I think even murder-boy wouldn't consider combustion a valid un-life choice.'

'You never kn-'

'Geez, Buff, really, would it make much of a difference?' Xander snapped at her.

Buffy stopped walking. 

'What do you mean?' she said, her voice wavering.

'Well, it's not exactly like you're helping much, is it?' and without a backward glance, he walked away, wondering at his little outburst. Where the hell had that come from? Not that he wasn't right, but he'd kept it to himself all that time, and it came out now?

Buffy just slumped down where she was, in the middle of the sidewalk. Oz managed, in some way, to help her up and move her out of the way of the crowd. They sat side by side and Oz tried his best to comfort the Slayer. Buffy just leaned her head on his shoulder and let one tiny tear escape as he patted her head awkwardly.

Giles held a look of a fierceness no one but his Ripper-days' friends had ever seen. He caught up with Xander.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' he spat.

Xander turned around to face the Watcher.

'Expressing my perfectly justified and impartial opinion, I guess, but hey, you're not familiar with impartial when it comes to the Buffster, are you?'

'Impartial and justified? Don't you think she has enough to deal with without you coming along to place the blame on her shoulders?' Giles' words shook with repressed fury, but Xander wasn't intimidated. 

'It's really not my fault if that's where it belongs.'

'Buffy did not kill anyone, Xander. Angelus did, and you know that perfectly well, so don't think you have the right to express any kind of judgement.'

'Oh please, don't give me that judgement crap. You have no idea how much I hate Angel, but that doesn't mean Buffy's innocent in this whole thing. Just because I'm not gonna go after him on some mad suicidal vengeance mission just to get myself killed, doesn't mean I'm not gonna say things as they are.'

Giles took one step closer to the young man in front of him.

'Don't talk about things you don't understand,' he said, through gritted teeth.

'Don't understand? You really should get into that old head of yours that you and Buffy aren't the only ones in pain here. I've lost my best friend and my girlfriend here so don't tell me I can't blame anyone. If it wasn't for Buffy, Angel would never even have started this whole killing spree thing.'

'If it wasn't for Buffy, you'd be dead, Xander. If this is your way of showing gratitude, I'm afraid there's something horribly wrong with it. What Buffy needs now is a group of supportive friends, not some angry teenager looking to let his anger out, so you'd better go there right now and apologise-'

'Apologise?' Xander yelled, shaking with emotion. 'Apologise for what? She's not the only one here who needs support you know, but what do I get? Two girls I loved six feet under, Angry Ripper guy and a sick dead-guy dating slut version of my best friend, who's acting like she's paralysed or something instead of going there and kicking Angel butt. I have a feeling she's the one who should apologise, you know, as it's her sex life that's giving us all this trouble-'

Giles grabbed Xander by the collar and slammed him against the wall. His mouth an inch from the teen's face, he said with deceptive calm:

'If you have nothing sensible to say, I suggest you shut the bloody hell up and get out of my sight before I make you. Is that clear?'

There was silence again. The two just looked at each other. Then, Giles slowly let go of Xander's shirt and watched fiercely as the teen straightened it and walked away. Then, he went back to where Buffy and Oz were sitting. The werewolf was looking worriedly at Xander's receding form and then at Giles. Buffy whispered:

'I told you he hates me.'

It turned out there was a lot to say.

TBC…

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A/N 2: I know, fighting is not good! Oh well… I'm not sure if I write Xander that well, so please review and help! Oh, and an invisible pot of gold to anyone who gets where the chapter title comes from.


	5. Plans

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.

A/N: This chappie is a little depressing. I'm very sorry for the ages it took me to update (anyway, it's not like anyone really cares…:'( Yes, the relative lack of reviews is making me very upset!)

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'Spike, my little boy, will you come here and listen to the Earth? It's talking to me. It's saying naughty things. Naughty things for Spike and Drusilla. Come here, my love,' Drusilla said in her sing-song voice, with an ear to the ground and her dark hair splayed over the mansion floor.

But Spike was not in the mood to listen to the Earth. All he wanted to do at that moment was to find Angelus and drive a red hot railroad spike through his head. Maybe that would remove his grand-sire's obsession for the Slayer. Because all this obsession was doing was to bring trouble. Two of the Slayer's inner circle dead in two days; all this was achieving was to make the Slayer more furious, more dangerous and all of them just a little bit closer to their dusty end.

But of course, Angelus was nowhere to be found. Spike recognised that hiding had been the only intelligent thing his grand-sire had done in the last forty-eight hours. He just hoped the Slayer wouldn't come looking for revenge any time soon, at least not before Angelus returned, otherwise he knew she'd end up dusting the wrong vampire.

His musings were interrupted when Drusilla sat straight up, in a sudden, almost unnatural movement, and started whimpering and shaking uncontrollably.

Spike was at her side in less than a moment.

'Dru? Dru, luv, what's wrong?' But she kept on whimpering and crying like a frightened child, unheeding to his attempts to comfort her.

'What are you all staring at, get the soddin' hell out of here!' he yelled at the minions who had gathered around them to get a glimpse of the shaking form of Drusilla, and they scattered, getting as far away as possible from the wrath of their master. Immediately, Spike turned his attention back on Drusilla, and seeing that being gentle was to be no use, seized her shoulders and shook her violently back and forth, until she stopped making any noise at all.

'Dru! Bloody hell, Dru, will you tell me what's wrong?' the bleached vampire hissed.

She looked at him, and for the first time in their decades together, Spike saw terror in her eyes, as she whispered shakily: 'Oh, Spike, it's bad, it's very very bad! She's going to kill us, she's coming here and she's going to kill us all!'

* * *

'I'm going to kill them all,' Buffy told Giles. 'I'm going to go there now, to the Mansion. I'm going to kill him, and then I'm going to kill them all.'

It was Saturday, which meant there was no school, and Giles was grateful for that. He didn't think he could face another day in the company of people who still had the ability to laugh and to be cheerful. And he knew that neither could Xander, and neither could Oz, and neither could Buffy. And he didn't think any of them could face each other either. His argument with Xander had made everything worse and Giles was just thankful there'd be two days for things to cool down, otherwise he thought he might not be able to keep himself from hitting Xander. So the Watcher expected everything but Buffy knocking on his door, although what she had come to tell him was hardly surprising.

But he still had the impossibly hard and exhausting job of saying things he knew others would not want to hear. So:

'That's not a very good idea,' he stated simply. He was met with her steely glare. Sometimes he marvelled at how her eyes, which could be so soft, and sweet, and loving, could at other times exude such irrefutable authority.

'It's the only idea,' she replied, the same steel of her glare present in her voice. Giles thought it sounded so unlike her to talk like that, to say the bare minimum, to not make one of her silly puns or jokes.

He looked at her sadly. 'I don't think you should go.'

'I don't care what you think,' was her reply, although the hitch in her voice made it clear she didn't mean it.

'Of course.' He smiled desolately. 'But you will not face Angelus only, if you go to the Mansion. Drusilla and Spike will be there too, and all of their minions. It's broad daylight, they will all be there. You know that. Getting yourself killed is not the solution, Buffy.'

'It doesn't matter. I don't make much of a difference anyway.' She felt the corners of her eyes prickling, but ignored it. It wasn't the time to be weak now.

'Is that really what you think?' he asked her, as gently as he could with all those unshed tears choking him. She didn't reply. But he saw how she swallowed, how she suddenly looked at her feet, how she was so determined to go through with a plan which would almost certainly result in her death. He knew that she really did think that, and she had thought it even before Xander had said anything.

'This is not what Willow would have wanted.'

'Willow's dead.'

God, she sounded so distant. For a fleeting instant, he thought of grabbing her, of shaking her until she reacted in some way, until she came out of this self-destructive apathy. But he didn't have the courage.

'I'm not going to let you go.'

'You can't stop me.'

'Of course I can't.'

They exchanged a look.

'Please, at least let me hug you,' he said. She didn't move, so he stepped close to her and embraced her, as tight as he could. If this was going to be the last time he touched her, saw her, he'd better do it properly. So this was how it felt, to lose a daughter? He stroked her hair and held her close, and although she didn't react in any way, although she didn't hug him back or even lift her arms, it was enough for him. Enough to stop his heart breaking for another minute.

After a few seconds, he stepped back and smoothed her hair and looked her in the eyes.

'Thank you. You can go now, if you really must.'

She fumbled around his living room for a little longer, adding a couple of stakes to the arsenal she was already carrying on her, while he still stood there, next to the couch. Then, she walked to the door. Before she left, she turned around and looked her Watcher in the eyes.

'I'm sorry. I love you.'

Then, she slipped away.

Giles sat on his couch. The minute had passed. His heart could break now.

* * *

A/N: God, that was depressing to write! I hope I didn't overdo it… Review, gentle readers, and tell me if you liked it. I shall love you forever!

TBC…


	6. Showtime

A/N: Sorry for the very very late update, I just completely forgot about fanfiction in hese last few months, but anyway, here is the much awaited showdown chapter.Hope you like it! Oh, and many thanks for the kind reviews, especially to jannalily47! I'm glad you like this! Oh, and by the way, I don't own BtVS or any of the characters. I just own this fic. Enjoy! And don't forget to review.

* * *

When she came back an hour later, Giles could not understand how Buffy had managed to drag herself back to her Watcher's home. She was, in fact, bleeding profusely. Two little holes on her wrist showed that someone had managed to feed on her and the numerous bruises and cuts all over her face, neck and arms showed she was in a pretty bad state. And that was only as far as he could see.

Yet, she was alive, which was miraculous in itself. He still hadn't fully realised that she wasn't dead and almost felt like she had never left his house. But she was growing gradually paler and her lip was swelling and this brought him back down to Earth with worry. But despite the intensity of the emotions they were both feeling, neither of them spoke while Giles tried his best to patch her up. But it seemed as if he might not be enough.

'We need to get you to a hospital,' he told her. She looked at him from the couch, with something like reproach.

'I don't like hospitals. They're scary. And smelly,' she murmured.

'You're such a little girl, Buffy.'

'I wish.'

Giles sighed, resigned to doing his best to stop her bleeding. 'Are you going to tell me what happened?' he asked as he disinfected a cut on her face.

'He wasn't there.'

'And?'

'He wasn't there. He's hiding somewhere.'

'With Spike and Drusilla?'

'Spike couldn't go anywhere if he wanted to. He's stuck in a wheelchair, Dru wouldn't carry him around. No, they were there.'

'Did they do this to you?'

'It's nothing. You should see what I did to them. Well, you wouldn't see much. They sort of…bit the dust, if you know what I mean.'

Giles smiled. 'I see you're making jokes again. That's good. Right?' She smiled weakly but she couldn't keep it up for much longer. Tears started to trickle down onto the sofa. But she wasn't crying because she was sad. She cried because she was furious. Giles took his handkerchief out and tried to dry her tears but to no avail. They just kept silently coming.

'Tell me what happened.'

'I killed them. That's all there is to it.'

In truth, that wasn't all there was to it. Killing was an euphemism. She had destroyed them. Drusilla had seen her coming but whatever preparation Spike and his gang could have made could never have contrasted Buffy's wrath. She entered the Mansion and immediately dusted the three minions who had been appointed to guard the gates and give the alarm. But she wasn't at her best yet. She walked into the main room and upon seeing her, Spike yelled to the vampire on his right:

'Do I have to do bloody everything in here to get things right? Why the hell did you choose the most incompetent three to put at the door? Did your brain rot with the rest of your internal organs?' In the meantime, a large group of vampires clustered between Buffy and Spike.

Drusilla whimpered. 'Oh! Oh, Spikey, no…no! She's a beast! She is the Sun, she burns and burns and burns!' she chanted, accentuating every word with a wave of her hand.

'Glad to see you're healthy as usual, Drusilla. Unlike your boyfriend.'

'Shut up, Slayer.'

'You know, Spike? You're really not that threatening when you're sitting down. But I guess you can't help it. Where is he?'

'Who?'

Buffy laughed. 'Who do you think? If you tell me, your un-lifespan may just stretch for five more minutes.'

'If you're talking about Angelus, I don't know where he's gone. He's dust for all I know. But I heard he did a good job before leaving. Heard he's become a serial killer. You think they might make a movie out of it? You know, à la 'Silence of th-'

Buffy sprang forward, fury surging through her veins. She kicked and punched and staked like she had never done before. It was almost as if all the humanity had left her and she was just the Slayer, nothing more, just a killer with the precision of a butcher. She managed to dust four vampires before she even got hit for the first time. She yelled and leapt and beheaded like a machine and felt a primal urge to kill as many demons as possible. It was a carnage. But the odds were overwhelming nonetheless and soon, a vampire had managed to sink her teeth in her wrist while another punched her on the mouth. As the life was ebbed out of her, she heard Spike say: 'Dru, why's she gone crazy? Was it something I said? Angelus isn't going to be very happy we killed her when he's back.'

This was a mistake.

The mere mention of his name was enough for Buffy to shake the feeding vampire off her and cut her head off with her sword. Once again, she had the upper hand and without receiving any more major blows, she dusted the rest of them cleanly.

When she finished, she had her back to Spike and Drusilla and was breathing heavily. She was so tired, she just wanted to go to sleep, but she willed herself to stay awake. 'Just a little longer, then I can go to sleep,' she thought. She turned around.

The sight that greeted her would have been funny if the circumstances had been different. Spike, in his wheelchair, was attempting to hide behind Drusilla, who on her part was simply laughing softly.

'Spike, my love, did you see? She killed them all! That was fun. Oh, Buffy, please, please do it again!'

With preternatural speed, Buffy seized Drusilla by the neck and slammed her against the wall and in less than a second had the point of a stake pressing against the vampire's heart.

'Move, both of you, and Drusilla's dust,' she hissed through gritted teeth. A nerve on Spike's left temple was twitching but he didn't move an inch. Drusilla, meanwhile, was still laughing her maniacal laugh.

'I will ask you for the last time, Spike. Where is he?'

'I don't know,' Spike said slowly.

Buffy started shaking but did not lose her grip on Drusilla's neck.

'You mean to say I came here, did all this, for nothing.'

'Oh, no! It was entertaining! Better than naming the stars…'

Buffy staked her.

'Dru! Shit, you killed her! No! You bitch, I told you I didn't know, I told you, and you killed her! No…' Spike buried his head in his hands and started sobbing.

'Oh, you're a softy, aren't you? That's what you get for doing what you do. You're just an animal, Spike, nothing more. You might be proud of it, but you, Drusilla, Angel, you're all animals. And this is what you deserve.' Buffy picked him up by the collar. 'You don't have feelings. You don't care about anything but yourselves. You destroy lives for fun and get away with it,' she yelled, punctuating every word with a punch. 'Well, I'm sorry Spike, but you're not getting away with it this time! Your girlfriend is dead, and you're going to follow her.'

'Yes, just kill me, just do it, alright?' he said, his voice muffled by his swollen lip.

She staked him too.

She had done it. She hadn't managed to get to Angel, but he was alone now. She'd managed to kill Spike, Drusilla and their gang, but somehow, she didn't feel any better. Release was still to come, waiting for revenge.

She stared around the room; at the dust, at Spike's wheelchair, at a portrait of an old lady with a huge hat on the wall. She just wanted to go to sleep. Revenge could wait. But first, she had to get to Giles'.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy finished telling Giles what had happened at the Mansion.

'Buffy, you do realise you single-handedly killed more than thirty vampires, among which Drusilla and Spike. I think you should be proud of yourself. _I'm_ proud of you,' the Watcher said with a smile.

'I didn't kill _him_.'

'You will. You can find him as soon as you heal. But Buffy, you don't have to be strong all the time. You can let go for a moment, you have to. You can't be like this.'

'Like what, Giles? I was weak, and your girlfriend died. I was weak and two of my best friends died. I don't think I can afford to be any weaker.'

'You weren't weak, Buffy. You were only human.'

'Well, then, I guess I can't be human then. I guess a Slayer can't ever be human.'

'That's not true.'

'I don't know, Giles. Maybe…' She sighed. 'I'm tired. I just…Can I just go to sleep now?'


End file.
